Chaos Theory
by Crystal Haze
Summary: Uchiha Itachi, lead singer of the hottest new band to surface in a decade. Impossibly gorgeous, impossibly talented, and just as impossible to get an interview with. That was till Haruno Sakura—a promising young journalist, fresh out of university—decided she was going to do just about anything to change that last bit. AU. ItaSaku.


**chaos theory**

_uchiha itachi x haruno sakura_

chapter i.

To the casual observer looking inside the office belonging to the Editor-in-Chief of _Kunai_ magazine at twenty past ten that Monday morning, it might have seemed like Haruno Sakura was nervous. Really, the foot jiggling restlessly under the table, the relentless drumming of fingers on her clipboard, and the occasional bouts of coughing were a bit of a dead giveaway.

On the other side of the table, the misshapen lump that faintly resembled a pair of womanly shoulders and arms and a head of blonde hair done in a low ponytail shifted a little, emitted a drawn-out snore, and flopped back down on the table again.

... Or maybe not.

"Tsunade-sama, rise and shine!" Sakura trilled past clenched teeth, voice dripping with sugar and lips drawn in an impossibly wide smile that didn't _quite_ reach her eyes. "Rise and shine, Tsunade-sama!"

The Editor-in-Chief of _Kunai_ magazine, winner of eleven National awards and one of the most powerful women in all of Japan, groaned, stretched, and resumed her position slumped and drooling over her desk amidst a mess of documents that would eventually single-handedly shape public sentiment across the country.

A vein in Sakura's temple popped. She got to her feet, crossed to the window in three large strides, and unceremoniously yanked up the blinds.

With a wail like a dying animal, Tsunade shot bolt upright, eyes squeezed shut and arms waving frantically in the air. "Not the light, no!" she cried in distress, "Anything but the light!"

Sakura held on to the cord and regarded her boss grimly. "_Fine,_" she said at last, and green eyes swivelled over pointedly to the papers scattered on the desk.

Cracking her eyes open a fraction—grimacing amply in the process—Tsunade noticed the direction of Sakura's keen gaze, and sighed in defeat.

"All right, all right," she grumbled, shading her eyes with one hand and starting to scrabble around blindly on her desk. "This bloody... godforsaken... desk, can't ever find anything on i—Shizune!" she bellowed towards the door. "In here, Shizune! That useless girl, never around when you need her—"

"Um, Tsunade-sama?" interjected Sakura warily.

When she didn't elaborate, Tsunade let out an annoyed huff. "What is it?" she snapped. "Speak up, Haruno."

Sakura approached her cautiously, like she was afraid she might spook her. When she had come up close, she tentatively reached out a hand.

"I'll just—" she muttered, "If you don't mind... " And she gingerly pried out a rolled up sheet of paper from her boss's generous cleavage.

"Ah!" said Tsunade, delighted. "Lovely." She clapped and squinted expectantly at Sakura through barely-open amber eyes.

But Sakura was already absorbed in the paper she'd just retrieved, eyes zipping across it at lightning speed. Tsunade groaned.

"Oh for God's sake, Haruno, I have a hangover worth six bottles of sake to sleep off and nine thousand yen of gambling losses to mourn, let me make it snappy."

She cracked her knuckles, and blinked a few times. Eyes suddenly wide open and completely alert, she leant forward with her arms crossed over her desk, and surveyed the newest and brightest addition to her writing staff, fresh out of university with a degree in journalism and a few stellar contributions to _Kunai_ magazine already to her name.

"You've only been here four months, Haruno," she said briskly, suddenly business-like. It had always amazed Sakura how she could revert between diametrically opposite states with such ease. She nodded numbly, unsure where this was going. "But you're promising, and I dare say you have a bright future ahead of you. I'm not usually wrong about things like this, you know?" She gave Sakura a long and hard look, as though awaiting a reply.

"I—" Sakura's voice came out like a croak, and she hurriedly cleared her throat. "Er, no, Tsunade-sama, I don't believe you are."

"Which is why," said Tsunade, half-overriding her words, one manicured fingernail pointed at the sheet of paper in Sakura's hand, "I've decided to put you on this particular job. Deadline? You have none. I want it on the very bottom of your priority list, for reasons you'll come to understand soon enough. I do trust you to be sincere and make an honest effort with this, however, because it is still the dream article for any magazine to run, not to mention for a young writer such as yourself. Despite not being the most—er, feasible task to accomplish, as you'll soon realise."

Sakura frowned. "Forgive me, Tsunade-sama," she said, "But I don't see how you can say something like that. Your magazine has featured articles on subjects no journalist has dared tread before! The murder of that rising young actress last year? Investigating the Sarutobi scandal? That exposè on the prostitution ring run by ex-education minister Nakamura? Your magazine is what made me believe _anything's_ possible for a journalist if you try hard enough, long before I ever got a job here."

The smile that had started to spread slowly across Tsunade's face in the course of her little speech now threatened to split her face in two. "Clearly," she said, "You don't know the first thing about Uchiha Itachi."

"Uchiha Itachi," Sakura murmured half to herself, glancing down at the sheet of paper that carried details of her newest assignment. "It says here that's my interviewee's name... But who is he?"

She was surprised to hear her boss start to laugh softly, and she looked up at once. Tsunade was looking at her like she'd just won a lottery, eyes full of mirth and lips curved in a self-satisfied grin.

"If I wasn't already certain I'd made the right decision, I certainly am now," she said cryptically.

"What?" said Sakura confusedly. "I don't think I follow. It says here he's some sort of musician?"

Tsunade leaned back in her chair, and inclined her head towards the door. "Get out, Haruno," she said. "It's time you did a bit of research."

-:-

Brushing off a few crumbs from her keyboard, Sakura waited for the page to load. She'd been busy the rest of the morning finishing up her latest assignment—a special for the environment section on the declining numbers of crows along a trail down the rainforests in the south-west of the country—and she hadn't had a moment to even run a Google search on the enigmatic Uchiha Itachi.

"Uchiha Itachi," she muttered mostly to herself, eyes glued to the search results once they'd loaded. "Okay, I could tell you're a singer, the intro document I was given told me that much... But what was with the way Tsunade was talking towards the end? Like there's some sort of... deep and mysterious _conspiracy theory_ surrounding the guy. I mean, really? Bottom of the priority list, because getting a single interview isn't... feasible? Stop flattering yourself, Uchiha Itachi, I bet no one's even heard of you. Or your music. Or your little band. Like let's see, have _you_ guys ever heard of him? This Uchiha Itachi character?"

Around the table at the cafeteria, three pairs of eyes goggled at her.

Not looking up from her laptop, Sakura smirked at the silence. "Hah," she said triumphantly. "Thought so. Well, Uchiha Itachi, what do you say to _that_?"

"Um, forehead?"

"Mm-hmm?" Sakura hummed absently, distracted by the pinging of her email.

"You're not being serious, right?"

Sakura's brows creased in a frown as she scanned her laptop screen. "What? No, I—"

"You _can't_ be serious, right?" pressed on Ino from across the table.

Surprised at the faint edge of hysteria to her voice, Sakura looked up. Ino was leaning over the table, cornflower blue eyes wide and urgent. Next to and opposite her, Tenten and Hinata weren't faring much better.

"No," said Ino, shaking her head as if to convince herself, "You can't be. How could you be? There's no way. Oh no. Of course there isn't."

"Er... Ino-pig?" said Sakura cautiously.

"I mean, you guys don't think so, right?" she went on, desperation lacing her voice now as she rounded on Tenten and Hinata, apparently oblivious to Sakura's very existence. "Because it's impossible. There's no way. Nope. None at—OH MY GOD SHE GOT THE UCHIHA ITACHI JOB."

"Hang on," said Sakura, trying to make sense of this mystifying turn of events. "You know this guy?"

Tenten looked at her as though she'd grown three extra heads. Out of her ass. Hinata made a strange noise halfway between a snort and a terrified squeak, and Ino simply put on her best _I'm so done with you Haruno_ expression, normally reserved for fashion choices that didn't quite meet the Yamanaka Ino seal of approval.

"Oh, come on, guys," said Sakura, thoroughly tired of this game by now. She was stressed and overworked and apparently this Uchiha Itachi character was something of a big deal and no one seemed keen to fucking tell her _why._ Stupid, elusive, _infuriating _Uchiha Itachi, she found herself thinking with a viciousness that surprised even herself. "This is important to me, okay? Seemed like a pretty coveted job, according to what Tsunade-sama told me, and whatever you guys tell me on the subject could be what makes or breaks it for me!"

The three girls looked around at one another. Finally, Tenten began. "So," she said slowly, as though holding back something immense and overwhelming with a visible effort, "He's this... singer."

"Uchiha Itachi," cut in Ino, arms folded and eyes lit with a fire Sakura knew from one too many mad shopping splurges. "How do I begin to explain Uchiha Itachi?"

"Uchiha Itachi is flawless," chimed in Tenten, matter-of-factly.

"I hear his ass is insured for fifty million yen," continued Ino.

"N-Not enough," murmured Hinata, even as her cheeks burned.

"I know, right?" said Ino, eyes wide and head shaking at the injustice of it all.

"Wow, okay," said Sakura, staring around at her friends. "So he actually is a thing, huh?"

"You... could say that, yes," said Ino. "We mention him like thirty times a day—by which I mean myself, everyone in this building, every newspaper, every radio station, every television channel. How could you possibly have never heard of him, like even if you consciously tried? I mean, for fuck's sake! Never heard of Uchiha Ita—" She broke off, struck momentarily speechless in outrage.

"Well, I do tune _you_ out sometimes," Sakura shrugged nonchalantly. "But the rest? I—don't know," she said honestly, half to herself. She frowned, suddenly annoyed with herself. She was supposed to be a journalist. How could you possibly be a good journalist if you could barely keep track of what was going on in the world? Unless—

"You might be exaggerating, though," she said, giving each of her friends an assessing look. "I mean, what has the guy even done? I'm pretty sure if he was good enough, he'd have caught my attention by now."

"His band released their debut album only three months back," explained Hinata quietly. "And they've already broken more records than you can count. They have the kind of explosive stage persona people haven't seen in years, and they're so mysterious and completely fascinating you simply can't get enough!" She gave an excited little shudder most uncharacteristic of the normally serene Hyuuga heiress.

"And Uchiha Itachi himself is the biggest enigma of them all, of course," said Tenten. "All we know about him is next to nothing, which is why the Internet really isn't the best resource in this case because there's always so much wild speculation."

She saw the still-sceptical look on Sakura's face, and sighed. "You could check up on all the records they've broken, at least. Google it!"

"I already have," Sakura answered. She tapped her screen awake. "Says here—"

With an instant lunge, Ino dived around the table and squeezed herself between Sakura and Hinata. Seizing the laptop, she pulled it over in front of her and pored over it.

"Stop monopolising my property, Ino-pig," said Sakura irritably, attempting to tug it back.

Ino shut her up with a firm elbow to her ribs, eyes still glued to the screen.

"Shit—oww, that hurt, you kn—" Then the image Ino had opened on the screen loaded completely, and Sakura's voice, and the arm she'd raised to return the favour quite abruptly froze.

Fingers stretching towards the image on the screen, Ino shivered in delight and leaned up close to it. "You see him?" she said, voice distant and dreamy. "How can he possibly—in every plane of existence there _is—_be anything but the most perfect specimen of the male anatomy you have ever—_ever_ seen?"

Sakura swiftly grabbed Ino's steadily approaching hand, and pulled it away from the screen. "No touching," she said. "Seriously, you even remember you happen to own _this_? This little thing right over here?" She flapped Ino's limp wrist, and the platinum band encircling her ring finger gleamed in the sunlight. "Both of you, too!" she said, rounding on the other two girls who were also straining their necks to look.

"Well Kiba-kun _is_ quite adventurous in b-bed," admitted Hinata, face aflame again. "I-If you catch my drift."

Ino looked at her with pride. "That's what I'm talking about!"

Tenten shrugged. "It's the Uchiha Itachi effect, after all. No one's safe!"

"Like, look at him," said Ino, pushing the laptop towards Sakura.

Sakura gave her her best _challenge accepted_ look—raised eyebrows and all—and leant closer to the screen.

The man was lean and long-limbed, long dark hair gathered into a ponytail. He was bare-chested, pale skin glistening with a sheen of sweat, and clad only in what seemed like an impossibly tight pair of black trousers, and a cloak over his shoulders, blue-black with red clouds patterned on it.

She didn't know how long she'd been staring, only how difficult it had been to tear her eyes away. And how oddly—completely _unfathomably—_out of breath she seemed to have become.

She squeezed her eyes shut, taking a moment to clear her head. Damn it, she was a professional. She didn't have the luxury of letting the tiredness and lack of sleep get to her.

Because clearly—_clearly_, that's all it was.

"He's—tall," she informed the others with a shrug. "And he has a nice nose?"

His eyes sucked her in again, even as she tried to carelessly sweep her gaze over the photo a second time. They were dark, bottomless pits, lit with a quiet fire that made it seem almost—red? She blinked a few times.

Oh yeah, definitely overworked.

Hastily tearing her eyes away from the picture, she found Ino staring fixedly at her.

"Oh my god," she started to say. "Oh my god. _Tall_ she said... and—and _nice nose_? I'm not even gonna—wow. Okay. And you're telling me YOU GOT THE JOB? I can't even—that is wrong on so many levels, you hear, _so many levels_. I can't even look at you right now. Someone get her away from me, please?"

Suddenly reminded of Tsunade's cryptic parting comment that morning, Sakura laughed. "Tsunade, you clever old thing. You see, Ino darling, that little monologue of yours makes it clear exactly why I'm the only person for the job!"

"Such blatant discrimination against people with actual _libidos_, imagine that," said Ino darkly, glaring at her. She crossed her arms, pouting, and Sakura could tell she was about to revert to sulk mode.

Then she sighed, and rolled her eyes heavily. "I mean," she went on, sounding supremely disgruntled, "Of course they'd pick _you_—you're the only one boring and _sincere_ enough to do it!" She gave Sakura a sideways glance.

Sakura giggled, and linked her arm through her friend's. "Aww, is that your way of saying you're happy for me?"

Ino huffed, and Sakura pressed on quickly. "Because this might be a good opportunity to tell you I have two tickets for their concert next week? At Shibuya. Tsunade-sama pulled some strings and—"

"And I'm going?" three voices demanded in unison, three fists thuming on the table.

Sakura winced. "Er—guys? You know I love all three of you, crazy amounts?"

"Cut to the chase, Haruno," snapped Tenten, and Hinata nodded furiously.

"Yeah, forehead, do you really want me to pull the playground card? Specifically, the Academy playground one February morning, eighteen years ago?"

Sakura bit her lip. It _was_ a particularly effective card. Three boys teasing her for her ugly, wide forehead. Feeling impossibly small. Then, like the brave, wonderful heroes she'd read about in stories, two children waddling up to stand between her and the boys. Yamanaka Ino, the girl she'd always been afraid to talk to because she was so beautiful and sure of herself and always, always spoke her mind. And Uzumaki Naruto, the short kid she'd thought strange and rude and annoying because that's what the other boys and girls used to say.

They'd become best friends after that, of course, the three of them. All through school, and university, right upto now. Sakura glanced at Ino, seeing in the faraway softness in her eyes that she was thinking the same thing.

"Look, if you guys really love me," she sighed, looking around at Hinata and Tenten too, "You'll let me do this on my own. I know you guys are crazy about him, and it'll just be a... distraction? If I do manage to get the interview, I promise to buy tickets for us all from my own savings. Pinky swear. I just... really need to do this the right way."

She turned to Ino, and patted her on the arm. "Don't worry, at least I'll let you pick out my outfit?"

Ino's mouth twitched as she fought down a smile. "You better," she muttered at last. She straightened up, tightened her ponytail, and looked at Sakura with a new, maniacal glint in her eyes.

"Pick a date and time, Haruno, because you and I—we've got some shopping to do."

-:-

Melted chocolate. That's what it felt like.

Or—or cream. Of the richest, lushest, smoothest variety, whipped for hours together to reach the most perfect blend you could possibly achieve.

There were words of her own, too—snatches of them, streaming in and out of her consciousness from time to time. _Pay attention!_ they seemed to say, and: _you're doing it wrong!_

Then they'd grow quieter and quieter and out of earshot altogether, and how could anything possibly be wrong anymore?

_And the cadence of her heartbeat never left, never left_, rasped Uchiha Itachi, eyes far, far away and pale face looking other-worldly in the stage lights. His voice rose and fell, first slow and tender, then ringing and passionate, then building up to an aching, devastating crescendo.

The cool effortlessness of the performance made him seem almost detached, but Sakura could feel each of his words and every shade of his emotions like a physical stab to the chest. And she couldn't take it any more, _turn around_, she sobbed, _turn around, don't go—_

"Whatcha doin'?" Naruto's voice emerged out of nowhere at her ear. He'd pried out one of her earphones, and he was leaning over her shoulder with a mouthful of sandwich ballooning his cheeks.

Jerking to attention, Sakura paused the video she was watching and took a moment to collect herself. And to look around her to remember where she was, and the time of day. Shit, what had got into her?

Placing her hand on her heart, she willed her heart to stop racing. "Wh—er, when did you come in?" she asked noncommittally, trying her hardest not to look she was still so shaken by the experience. _Of watching a fucking YouTube video of Uchiha Itachi performing,_ she reminded herself. Somehow, that particular knowledge annoyed her more than anything else could.

"Ten minutes back?" said Naruto. "You were staring at your laptop, red-faced and chest heaving, so I decided to give you a bit of privacy. Don't sweat it," he added with a beatific smile, "Happens to the best of us. Except you were sweating too, so that probably wasn't the best—"

"EXCUSE ME?" Sakura shrieked, as it finally struck her what he was suggesting. "I was not—oh my _god_, I don't believe you—_of course I was not fucking watching porn!_"

"Sure, sure," nodded Naruto sagely. He peered at her laptop screen. "Woah, you too? Finally caught the Uchiha Itachi disease, huh?"

Passing a hand over her eyes, Sakura leant back against the cushions. "It's just for a job, okay?" she said. Suddenly, she was acutely aware of how tired she was. "I've got to interview the guy, I've caught no such fucking _disease_."

"You joking?" Naruto did a flying leap over the couch and landed next to her with a bounce that very nearly upended the laptop, the coffee table, and the two of them with it. "Oh shit, how are you not creaming your pants already?"

"Oh my god," groaned Sakura. "Seriously? How am I the only person in the world who's never heard of this guy before? I mean, _you've_ heard of him and you can barely spot a no parking sign from three feet away!"

"Hey, it's not my fault they love to put those things right under shiny billboards for Ichiraku's," pouted Naruto. "But anyway... About this job. Isn't Uchiha Itachi impossibly hard to get an interview with, or something?"

"Never done one till date," said Sakura grimly. She picked up her notebook, and thumbed through it. "All that anyone knows about him so far is from what the other band members have said. Who, by the way, are apparently insanely popular too?"

"Yeah... Deidara, Sasori, Kisame and Konan," said Naruto, without thinking.

Sakura stared at him. "Who are you and what have you done with Naruto?"

"Hey, I'm perfectly capable of rememberin' stuff!" said Naruto, crossing his arms in clear affront.

"How many flights of steps did you just walk up to get into my flat?"

"Er—"

"... Yeah." Rolling her eyes, Sakura tore off a piece of the sandwich in Naruto's hand. "Hey," she asked suddenly between bites—leftover pork and barbecue sauce— "So, are you an Uchiha Itachi fanboy too?"

"He's good, obviously," said Naruto, with a shrug. "But like, I'm not quite as keen on jumping his bones like certain other portions of his fanbase? The music's enough for me, thanks."

"Nerd," laughed Sakura, elbowing him lightly. "Hey, that reminds me... I'll need to contact the band manager first, right? Ugh, so _unfair_ of Tsunade-sama to spring this on me when I've had zero band interviewing experience."

"You could always push it back to the bottom of the priority list where it belongs," suggested Naruto with a shrug.

Sakura gave him the best glare she could muster through the tiredness itching at her eyes. "What's a priority list?" she demanded, looming closer to him. "I don't know of any such thing. You either do it, or you give up. You want me to give up on this? Is that what you're suggesting?"

"No, no, no need to go all Hulk-smash mode on me, Jesus," muttered Naruto, cowering from her. "You should probably—er, send that email now? To the manager, remember?"

Distracted by the reminder, Sakura turned by to her laptop.

"So," began Naruto tentatively, after a while, "What do you have on him? The manager, I mean."

"It's his brother," murmured Sakura absently as she tapped swiftly away at her keyboard. "Uchiha Sasuke. 23. Same age as us, three years younger than his brother. Graduated from Tokyo Business School last year with top honours. Interesting."

"What is?"

"That they'd stick with someone as young and inexperienced as him, even after attaining the level of fame they have by now."

"Maybe he's just really good," offered Naruto.

"Maybe," conceded Sakura thoughtfully. She paused a moment, and bit her lip. "No," she said, returning to her typing, "I think there are other issues at work here. First, the fact that he's stayed so long is clearly something Uchiha Itachi had the final say in, meaning he's obviously influential over the other band members. Which is something you can corroborate from the way they speak about him in interviews, so it isn't anything new. What's interesting, though, is the second part. That his primary motivation here—a choice monumentally important for the future of his band, mind you—is that _Uchiha Itachi just loves his baby brother enough to put his interests over his own._"

Her eyes were shining as she finished, looking expectantly to Naruto for a reaction.

Naruto, however, looked decidedly unimpressed. "What," he said flatly. "That's it? That's what's interestin'?"

"Of course!" said Sakura urgently, with wild gesticulations. "Think about it—Uchiha Itachi, elusive, enigmatic Uchiha Itachi, who has the world at his feet and everyone eating out of his hand... and a weakness. For his little brother, at that!" Fists clenched and eyes round and wild, she looked at Naruto as though trying to bore the momentous nature of her discovery through his skull.

"Can you stop callin' him that? Little brother? He's our age, you know. And anyway, what are you even supposed to do with this information?"

Sakura huffed impatiently. "It's _important_, okay?" she stressed. "You wouldn't understand the nuances of the kind of research journalists need to do before an interview. And ooh, Uchiha Junior has a website—I wonder if there's a photo of him on it?" She bent over her keyboard again.

"Do you make it a habit of examining the psyches of everyone you interview and fangirl over how _adorable_ their caring big-brotherly instincts are?"

"Shut up!" Sakura squawked, elbowing Naruto in the ribs. Hard. Wincing, Naruto looked at her flushed face and decided that being subjected to one of Sakura's famously painful blows had almost been worth it this time.

Then the photo on the laptop screen loaded completely.

"Wow," said Sakura, taking in the dark eyes, pale skin and attractively spiked hair. "He's actually pretty cu—"

"What a dick."

"Huh?"

"He looks like a total dick! I mean. What's with that hair? And that dumb expression on his face. Stupid, pretty-boy face, too. Grade A dick material, okay."

He stopped for breath, having given his opinion all in a rush. When he noticed Sakura hadn't said a word, he looked up.

She was smiling. A small, sly smile that practically screamed _caution: deviant scheme at work! _"Er—" he began uncertainly.

"Naruto," she said sweetly, eyes large and pleading like she used to make them to get him to do whatever she wanted back when they were eight, and he'd decided he had a crush on her. It had lasted about three months, but that little trick had turned into a habit afterwards, one that she exploited fully every chance she had. "What are you doing on the Sunday after the next?"

"I... dunno?" said Naruto warily.

"I do!" Sakura said pleasantly. "You're going to the _Akatsuki_ concert with me!"

"Woah, woah, I don't know about that," said Naruto quickly. "Moshing with half-crazed fangirls dying for his blood? Really not my idea of a fun weekend activity."

"I'll treat you to Ichiraku's every weekend till Christmas?"

"... Done."

Sakura jumped in excitement, already working over the finer points of the little plan unfolding in her head, the fate her unsuspecting blond friend had sealed himself to.

The Sunday after the next couldn't come fast enough.

-:-

There was a smile on Uchiha Itachi's face as he shut the door to his brother's hotel room behind him. Really, there was nothing quite like the look of pure, undisguised, _it's the end of the world!_ brand of horror on the guards' faces from the lobby as he casually crossed the corridor in just a towel from his own room to check on his baby brother.

Of course, they'd booked the entire floor for themselves. And of course, not a soul but the band's innermost circle knew they'd be staying in this hotel at all. But still, the guards must have thought, as their life flashed before their eyes. _What. If?_ Itachi leant back against the door to savour the moment.

"Can you not stand over there smiling to yourself like a creep?"

Itachi opened his eyes. Sitting cross-legged on the plush, queen-sized bed, Sasuke was tapping away at his laptop in earnest.

"Little brother," he said, strolling up to him and flicking him lightly on the forehead. (Sasuke gave him his usual dark, _adorable_ little scowl.) "It's eight-thirty. On a Friday evening. And you're twenty-three years old. Just felt like I should remind of you these facts, once in a while."

"Just finishing up a bit of work," muttered Sasuke.

"Oh?" said Itachi. "Looking for jobs?"

"Er... no," said Sasuke. "That can wait, you know?"

"No," said Itachi, in that low voice that could command anyone's full attention whether they wanted to or not. "I don't know. I don't want you managing our band forever, Sasuke. You're bigger than that. It was just meant to be a stepping stone for your career, building up work experience. You know our band isn't always going to be ar—"

"It has to, okay?" Sasuke half-shouted, before he could check himself. "That band is my _life_. You can't—you can't put me in this position. It isn't fair." He let out a long exhale, running his fingers through his dark hair. "Look, I'm sorry," he murmured. "I don't want to talk about this right now, okay?"

Itachi looked at him for a long moment, then relented. Crossing over to the couch, he stretched out on it. Sasuke took a deep breath, and returned to his work.

For a while after that, there was no other sound in the room but Sasuke's fingers on the keyboard. Then he stopped, and straightened up. "Huh," he said, eyes still fixed on the screen before him.

Itachi raised a questioning eyebrow at him.

Sasuke looked at him and said, "Just got a mail from a journalist. For _Kunai_ magazine. Says she wants an interview, specifically with you. Seems pretty confident about it, too. Didn't know people were still capable of feeling that way."

Itachi raised his black painted fingernails to trace a pattern absently over his head. "What's her name?" he asked suddenly.

"Hm. Haruno Sakura, it says here."

Itachi's fingers stopped in their motions. "Really now?" he said, the tiniest of frowns marring his face.

Suddenly, he jumped lightly to his feet. He moved swiftly to the bed, and leant over Sasuke's shoulder.

The email was worded crisp and self-assured, and Itachi found himself unable to tear his eyes away till he'd read the whole thing.

It was an unfamiliar feeling, this. He'd seen it all: encountered every shade of character there was in the industry. Producers, directors, journalists, paparazzi. Yet... this was different, somehow. He didn't know what it was, or why it should seem so. But he couldn't shake the feeling.

Later, when he was in his own room, he reached into his suitcase and fished out the rolled-up magazine he'd been reading on the flight. Fingers fumbling slightly—though he wouldn't ever admit to it, of course—he flipped the pages to the article he'd been reading.

It had been fresh and exciting, a piece that bespoke a quick, bright intellect behind it. He'd never imagined he'd end up reading an article on gardening tips for the summer and _enjoy_ it, but somehow, she'd achieved the impossible.

Under the title, the name of the author stood out in red italics. _Haruno Sakura_.

Itachi shuffled the pages back to the one with the editor's note, and searched the set of tiny photos of the writing staff down the side of the page. _Haruno Sakura,_ the caption read under the picture of a young woman with pink-dyed hair and sharp green eyes.

Itachi placed the magazine down, a slow smirk spreading across his face. _Well now, _he decided, _this was__ going to be rather fun._

-:-

**A/N: **Well, that was the first chapter to my first ever ItaSaku story! I know you guys are dying for some real up close and personal action between our lead pair, and I can promise you that in the next chapter :)

Please **review** to let me know what you thought, and if you'd like me to continue!


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